


The Platinum Prude

by fortnightsofren



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, rexsoka - Fandom
Genre: Caught, F/M, Fluff, TCW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-29 23:32:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14483619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortnightsofren/pseuds/fortnightsofren
Summary: Ahsoka and Rex's first kiss.





	The Platinum Prude

**Author's Note:**

> this story is told in Wolffe's pov

_**THE PLATINUM PRUDE** _

Word Count: 1,281

Era: TCW

Pairings: Rex and Ahsoka

 

The medbay was grey; emptied of droid activity, and designed for a period of rest meant for the men inside. It wasn’t temperate enough to sleep in, but droids didn’t live or breath or feel hot and cold. Wolffe struggled with sleep, with his wandering mind. Some nights weren’t as miserable, but this wasn’t his cot and he was given the bare minimum of privacy. The lights under the cabinets irritated him. If someone ever thought to ask him for a list of all things he hated, the medbay “night lights” would be on up there. He wasn’t in the bay often, because of his swiftness on the battlefield. It just so happened that a shiny got himself in a compromising situation and Wolffe was the one who payed the price.

He tossed, and the attire they had him in wasn’t fitting like his bodysuit. The specialized cloth rippled across his torso and he was continually tugging and shifting it to hug him. It reminded him of the legless clothing that women donned themselves in. It made him feel feminine and less of one of the most intimidating soldiers Kamino produced. He’d been so busy as to not take note of the noise he was making, shifting his lady’s outfit. Mentally, Wolffe scolded himself and lie back down. Nevertheless, after he resumed his still position, the shuffling continued. Wolffe refrained from squeezing his eyes shut; they now ached from doing it so frequently. He looked beside him, through the thin cotton curtain than separated him from other injured brothers, and saw a silhouette. Someone probably was getting up to turn of those kriffing lights.

Feet padded the floor and Wolffe held his breath, anticipating his curtain to be yanked back. To his contentment, a row of lights were switched off and he let out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t the only one! Sleep was now at least in reach.

 

* * *

 

He tried to no avail. Despite there being less lights burning into his lids, Wolffe still found slumber hard to come by. He could still see the backs of his eyes, and the illumination that preceded them. Dormancy was difficult to remember. Every night you do it, but it’s never learned. It can’t be wished for or summoned. Hushed voices commenced. _Great_ , something else was going to keep him up. He thought twice about speaking up and giving the rude persons a piece of his mind. What he wanted to do was pull back the curtain and let the presumed shinys see his eye. It always seemed to intimate them and make them shut up. Something about the red streaking his face and the presence of a cybernetic caused them to cower. Instead, he began to listen to what was so important that it had to be discussed _right then_.

No coherent words resulted. The only activity left to him was to listen, and he couldn’t even manage that. Boldness stirred inside his chest as he soundlessly sat up and rested on the side of the so-called cot. The sheer sheet sat on his lap and slinked around one arm. He pushed it to the floor and slowly settled himself onto it; preventing his feet from getting cold or making gripping noises. The 104th’s Commander stretched the sheet from where he was settled, leading to where he wanted to go. It was then that he was thankful that the sheet “walls” reached the floor. Whoever was rooming next to him wouldn’t be able to see him standing there. It also helped that they’d killed the lights earlier and his outline wouldn’t be detected. They’d unknowingly benefited his cause. Catching someone like him eavesdropping would give the rest of the men something to talk about. No one expected the brooding Wolffe to do something considered so juvenile.

With his left eye, Wolffe peered through the space in which one sheet ended and another one began. He discerned the blonde hair of none other than the 501st’s Captain Rex. Or, as he referred to him as, “The Platinum Prude”. The fekker was sitting upright on his cot with his left arm wrapped and dangling in the sling. Some droid had put the blonde in his place; damaged his consistent reputation. Though it wasn’t just the Captain on his cot. The 501st’s Commander was sitting in front of him, also on the cot. The first thought that came to Wolffe’s mind was taboo. It was unorthodox for her to be visiting him in the medbay, especially after hours. She’d even initiated skin-to-skin contact.

“I should’ve kept on the left flank. That’s where you were stationed and I knew that. I always keep on whichever you’re on,” the togrutan girl whispered.

Blondie shut her up, “Ahsoka, your primary job isn’t to defend the men, but accomplish the objective to which you’re assigned.”

Wolffe almost shit himself. It was unconventional for him to address her by her first name. A clone always knows ranks, and hers was superior to his. He knew he should’ve reported this by now, but continued to watch their illicit behavior unravel.

General Skywalker’s apprentice was too close to the kriffer, “Did they say how long it would take?”

He shook his head, “It was unclear. Could be a few weeks. I don’t think it would go over that.”

She nodded and looked upon him. Wolffe didn’t want to believe their interception of the clearly defined prohibition. It disgusted him. _They_ disgusted him. The way she looked upon his unclothed chest was so immoral and unethical that it pained him.

“Rex …,” she wavered.

The clone captain met her gaze with a questioning look; not even phased by the fact she’d used his name.

“Do you know what a kiss is?” she breathed.

Wolffe knew what a kiss was. He’d never given one himself, but only knew because of the numerous humanoid women that pecked his cheeks on missions. He bet everything that The Platinum Prude wouldn’t know what it was though.

His pride surged when the golden head shook. Not yet putting two and two together, he watched on as the pair interacted.

Captain Rex’s breath intake increased as the togrutan girl moved in closer. Wolffe bit his tongue. Her hands cupped his face and fingers traced his crow’s feet. She was cherishing his exposed skin. The Prude just sat there, not moving his hands. Wolffe smiled smugly as he witnessed his least favorite vod in his most inexperienced moment. Not that he encouraged this behavior, but rather was provided with blackmail on both parties. She was sickeningly close to him, and continued her intimate touches on his face and shoulders. The padawan closed her eyes and kissed the captain on the lips. Lingering only for a few seconds, one would consider it innocent, Wolffe considered it sinful. Captain Rex didn’t close his eyes, nor did he kiss back, unknowledgeable on the skill of the act. Wolffe could’ve vomited.

The Platinum Prude had blushed all over, “That was … it was um, good.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

The puritan bid his goodnights to his Commander and she left soundlessly. Wolffe stayed behind to see the Captain’s aftermath. He shuffled in his sheet a bit and exhaled, recovering from his blush. The man lay back on his cot and shut his eyes. The action led Wolffe to remember that was his original intention and he led himself back to his cot. He opted to allow himself to succumb to sleep rather than tell officials what he saw. Let the Captain have his fun, he wanted to see how far this would play out.


End file.
